


His Part

by Gumnut



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23770483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: It started off as a mild annoyance.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	His Part

**Author's Note:**

> This is another IRRelief fic this time using @hodgehegposts ‘s prompt ‘One of the brothers being ticklish’.
> 
> Timeline: Shortly after Jeff’s disappearance, Kermadec AU, but it is not even mentioned, so completely standalone. It just uses the boys ages from that universe. Younger!Tracys
> 
> Spoilers & Warnings: None, really, 4714 words, edited very quickly at lunch at work, so apologies for anything I missed.
> 
> -o-o-o-

It started off as a mild annoyance.

Scott had fallen asleep at his father’s desk. Too much paperwork, most of which he was learning on the fly. Board members doubting his ability to take over from his father and juggle International Rescue. Virgil would kick his ass if he found out. John probably already knew. 

Both elder brothers were doing their best to help. Virgil was taking on as much International Rescue as was humanly possible. John was juggling Tracy Industries almost as much as Scott while handling day-to-day IR.

His father’s shoes were massive to fill.

And he left a gaping hole in Scott’s heart.

Waking up with an imprint of his own knuckles on the side of his face and a massive crick in his neck wasn’t the best. Staring at the glow of the twelve reports still awaiting review did nothing to improve his mood.

Briefly wondering how he had managed to sleep what appeared to be at least an hour with no disturbance, he remembered that Virgil was still on the other side of the planet, John was likely busy with that same situation and the two youngest were in bed. Grandma had returned to Kansas to finalise some of Dad’s personal matters.

Scott groaned and let his head fall onto his arms again.

He was so tired.

Something tickled his neck.

Absently, he swiped at it and ended up hitting himself in the head.

A few things between his ears rattled loose.

The tickle climbed down his spine and found his ribcage.

Scott’s eyes widened and he jumped out of the chair, sending it spinning across the floor.

What the-?

It was under his shirt.

There followed a most undignified, full-bodied dance across the comms room as he attempted to get whatever it was out of his shirt.

It didn’t hurt, but it tickled like crazy. He was caught between screaming and uncontrolled giggling.

In the end, he resorted to ripping his shirt off and flinging it across the room.

The tickling stopped.

And was replaced with goose pimples as the pre-dawn breeze wafted across his skin. Scott found himself bare chested and breathing heavily.

He wasn’t afraid of bugs, but that was…strange. He eyed his shirt as if it was going to jump up and bite him.

Of course, that was the moment Gordon wandered through on his way to his morning training. The fish stood at the top of the stairs for a full ten seconds staring at his topless eldest brother standing in the middle of the room, lit only by the blue light of holo-projector on the desk.

“Interesting look there, Scott.”

Scott spared him a glare before grabbing the shirt off the floor. “Lights.”

The comms room lit up. Scott drew some satisfaction as Gordon cringed from the sudden brightness. Fortunately, the little fish scuttled off to his pool and left Scott alone without another annoying word.

There was no bug in or on his shirt. After examining it, he had no choice but to throw it back on, or continue to invite comments from the waking peanut gallery.

The sudden appearance of John on the central projector and the distant roar of the return of Thunderbird Two flicked all thoughts of bugs from his mind as the new day started even before the sun made an appearance.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was exhausted but he didn’t have time to sleep. He did give himself a few moments to sit in the kitchen, worship his bucket of coffee and stare out at Mateo as the sun rose over it. It was only blinding if he focussed on it and he didn’t have the energy to do that.

Two needed repair and she needed it now.

His last rescue had involved a volcano and she had far too many particulates in her filters. They would all need replacing before he felt comfortable taking her out again. 

After that he needed to see to Alan and help him set up for the morning’s classes. He quite enjoyed helping his littlest brother, but he enjoyed it much more when he hadn’t been up all night.

But first coffee.

So warm. So inviting.

He closed his eyes as sipped the blessed liquid that was going to give him the energy to get through the rest of the day.

He nearly dropped the mug as something tickled him under his upraised arm.

He saved the mug, but didn’t manage to stifle the high-pitched squawk.

The coffee was deposited carefully, but Virgil was out of his seat and grabbing at his clothing in an energetic frenzy.

There may have been one or two more high pitched squeaks as red flannel was rubbed and scrubbed at frantically. 

Out of desperation, Virgil tore off both his shirt and his grey undershirt and threw them on the floor. He resisted the urge to stamp on them.

It was his favourite shirt.

“Virg?”

He looked up to find Gordon, fresh from the pool, standing in the doorway staring at him.

“You okay?”

If Virgil flushed red, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “Bug in my shirt.”

“Really.”

“Really.” Frowning his grabbed his shirt from off the floor, eyeing it suspiciously. Screw it, he sat down shirtless in front of his coffee and resumed staring out the window.

Gordon walked past him to the stairs, frowning and shooting him the oddest looks.

Virgil ignored him.

-o-o-o-

Scott made it through to lunch and finally dug up the answers the factory manager in Oklahoma had been begging him for. He had also managed to answer the lawyers, read and sign a pile of holographic documents and have a long-delayed meeting with the Japanese CEO. At least John had been able to help with translation. To be honest, it had just been a relief to have a brother to talk to.

Surrounded by family.

Too damned busy.

The last task for the morning was a parent-teacher conversation with Gordon’s curriculum manager. Scott had suspicions that there was a little too much Olympic training happening versus school work. It was a fine balance that had to be maintained. Gordon was a good student, if a little out of the ordinary…but then what Tracy wasn’t? At least two were diagnosed geniuses, and the other three focussed on their goals to the point of blindness, himself included.

His short Air Force career flickered through his mind and he shunted it away.

He was where he needed to be. Fate saw to that.

Scott stepped into the sunken lounge and briefly wondered if he was going to be allowed to leave this room today at any point. 

A resigned sigh and he his comms. “Gordon, time for the meeting.”

“FAB. Be there in two.”

Gordon was true to his word and appeared almost immediately, loud shirt and shorts as eye blasting as usual.

Scott reached out dropped a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. At sixteen, already Gordon’s accomplishments required a cabinet to hold all the trophies. With the loss of their father, Gordon had stumbled with the rest of them, but he was regaining his feet fast. He had to. This was his chance. The 2056 Olympics waited for no excuses.

This time it started on his wrist.

The faintest of tickles.

It was a tickle, not an itch. It played with nerve endings just like someone had their finger gently brushing across the surface of his skin.

It travelled up his arm as he snatched his hand away from his brother.

It was in his shirt again.

There were words as he once again found himself grabbing at his shirt.

“Scott, what?”

He was vaguely aware of the concerned expression on his brother’s face, but he was too busy trying not to giggle or scream.

His shirt ended up on the floor again.

Gordon stared at him a full five seconds, his face caught between incredulity, worry and hysterical laughter. Being Gordon, the laughter won out.

Scott ignored him and poked his shirt with his foot.

Of course, that was the moment John flickered in to advise that the curriculum manager was ready for the meeting. Scott had to admit that somewhere in the back of his wasted brain, there was something quite funny about the expression on the space monitor’s face.

Gordon, of course, had tears running down his face and was useless.

Scott had a lot of experience keeping his composure. He needed it all at the moment. “John, could you please ask Ms Smithson to hold for a moment, I need to grab a shirt.”

John bit his lip, obviously holding something back. But, ever the professional, he didn’t say anything but, “FAB,” before blinking out.

Scott picked up his shirt with two fingers and made a beeline for his bedroom.

At least he got a moment outside of the comms room.

-o-o-o-

A new shirt found, Scott made it through the interview. Turned out Gordon had been really working hard and with a small adjustment to his curriculum, he should be able to manage both his training and his graduation with only a small delay. Scott was satisfied that it would be the best for the athlete at this time.

The grin on Gordon’s face made it extra worthwhile.

Scott turned back to the desk after the meeting, but the list of messages awaiting his attention just hurt to look at.

Screw it. He deserved food, another room and maybe even some brotherly conversation. A quick check on Virgil’s location placed him, as expected, in the hangars. The engineer had not been happy that his ‘bird had suffered during last night’s rescue. Virgil was as bad as he was. His brother hadn’t slept, International Rescue his highest priority.

Scott sighed. How could they be expected to go ahead like this?

Lunch. Food. He struggled to focus his mind. Had he had breakfast? He couldn’t remember.

An elevator ride and he walked out into the cool underground caverns that housed the great green behemoth that was the love of his brother’s life.

It wasn’t hard to locate that brother. The profanity was extreme for Virgil and it had Scott quickening his step around the great plane. He found him harnessed and hanging in front of Two’s starboard intake. The swearing was moving into European languages, never a good sign.

Scott shouted up at the dangling engineer. “Virgil?!”

“What?!” A spanner fell and hit the concrete two metres in front of Scott. Despite himself, he jumped.

Virgil stared down at him owlishly for a whole handful of seconds. “Sorry.” It was muttered, honest, but grudging.

“Can you come down?”

“Why?”

“It’s lunch time.”

“I’m not hungry. I’ve got to get this done. I’ve got to replace part of the filter housing.”

“Well, I am hungry and you haven’t slept. Come down.”

“I’m fine! This can’t wait!”

“Damnit, Virgil, get down here now!”

The glare that hit him from above was dark and fuelled from the bottom of a desperate coffee pot. Scott had no doubt of that.

But one more muttered expletive and his brother rappelled down to the concrete floor. Dressed in flannel with his maintenance harness secured over ratty jeans, Virgil was covered in dust and grime.

Didn’t dull his fury though.

The fact he was so angry, so out of character for the generally calm and quiet engineer was more than enough proof that his brother needed rest.

“What do you want, Scott. I have to fix my ‘bird otherwise she can’t fly and we can’t answer the next call.”

“I’m having some serious doubts we can answer the next call anyway. Look at yourself, Virgil. You’re exhausted.”

“Kettle, pot, Scott.”

“Exactly! Eat lunch with me.”

Those dark brows wrinkled even further, brown eyes making that subtle switch between engineer and concerned brother.

Scott supposed he should have expected this. Maybe he was asking for it, hiding from a decision he knew he was going have to make. 

Offering himself up as a sacrifice in order for Virgil to make the decision for him.

He was so goddamned tired.

This time the tickle started on his calf, just above his right sock.

He wriggled, frowning, shifting his feet.

It climbed up his leg and he let out a squawk somewhere between a giggle and a profane word that would have had Grandma washing his mouth out with soap.

“Scott?”

It was running around and around his thigh. Scott cracked and grabbed at his leg, spinning on the spot as Virgil reached for him.

Whatever it was, it was fast. Up and down his leg as if anticipated his attempts to grab it through his jeans.

“Scott, what is…oh, shit!”

The eldest Tracy spun to find Virgil hanging upside down in his harness grabbing at his shirt.

The tickle in Scott’s leg took the opportunity to breach his waist band and play with his navel.

Buttons flew across the hangar as Scott tore the shirt from his body. 

There was nothing on his belly.

Virgil squawked and writhed, still upside down.

The tickle appeared back in Scott’s pants, this time behind his left knee. He didn’t hesitate, shedding his shoes, he shucked his pants and tossed them aside.

Finally, finally the ticklish feeling stopped. But Scott was left in his black short briefs and socks.

And damn it was cold in the hangars.

Virgil was still writhing upside down, unable to shed clothing due to his harness. “Goddamnit, Scott, help.” There was the sound of ripping flannel as heavy lifting muscles resorted to force.

Scott grabbed at his brother’s harness and wrapping an arm around those broad shoulders, released the safety line. Virgil weight was considerable, but Scott stabilised him enough for the engineer to get his feet beneath him. A fumble with the harness buckles and the support fell to the concrete with a clink of its metal links.

Torn flannel followed.

Two layers of shirt stripped, Virgil suddenly took a deep breath and dropped his hands to his knees, letting his head drop. “It’s stopped.”

Both brothers heaved in air for a moment.

“What the hell was that?” Virgil looked up at Scott.

“I have no idea. Third time this morning.”

“Second.” Virgil’s voice was all breath.

“Happened before?”

Virgil nodded. “Over coffee.” A frown. “Gordon came in afterwards. This isn’t a new prank is it?”

Scott stared at his brother for a moment. “Gordon was there both times this morning.”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped. “I’m going to kill him.”

“He’s not here now.” Scott looked around before hesitantly poking his shirt enough to activate his comms. “Thunderbird Five, could you give me a location on Gordon?”

“Scott? You okay?”

“I will be once I find Gordon.”

“He’s on the pool deck, apparently studying. The meeting went well?”

Scott frowned. “Yes, a few small changes will make room for his training. Gordon was very happy with the plan.” Could explain the studying.

“That’s great news.”

“Yes, it is.” He wondered how happy John would be if he could see him standing in his underwear next to a shirtless Virgil.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Perhaps his brother didn’t need to see. “I’ll let you know after I’ve spoken to Gordon.”

“Okay. Remember fratricide is not an option.”

“Don’t spoil it for me.”

-o-o-o-

A clean pair of pants and two shirts later they found Gordon exactly where John said he would be. The sixteen-year-old was camped out on a pool lounger with a portable holoprojector, his tablet and even a print book open beside him.

“Gordon?” The strawberry blond head remained focussed on the tablet. 

“Gordon!”

Scott jumped. Hell, Virgil could yell when he needed to.

Gordon looked up calmly. “Virg? Something wrong?” Scott watched his little brother take in their state of undress. Neither of them had shoes on or had done up their shirts, just in case. “What are you guys doing?”

“What do you think?” He stepped down onto the pool deck, gesturing to his open shirt. “This is on you, and you know it.”

A blink. “Know what?”

Beside Scott, Virgil lost it. God, a tired Virgil was a cranky Virgil. “What did you put in our clothes?”

“Er, nothing?” Gordon appeared to realise he was tackling the family bear in a fury, a rare, but never good thing. He put down his tablet and stood up, backing away a little. “Now, Virg, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Another step back. “Uh, no. I really have no idea what you are talking about.” Pleading eyes darted to Scott.

If Scott wasn’t so tired, he might have found the whole reversal of roles between himself and Virgil somewhat ironic. As things were, he reached out and gently wrapped his hand around Virgil’s arm.

His hand only made it part way around one bulging bicep. When the hell had that happened? He tugged gently. “Virg…”

That resulted in a pair of furious brown targeting him. “What?! He could have caused a serious accident. What if it happened while I was up in the intakes? Whatever the hell he did, it was dangerous.”

Okay, so Virgil had a point.

Gordon held up his hands. “Honest, guys, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“So, you know nothing about an…irritant in our clothing?” Scott stared him down.

“Uh, no?”

He held his little brother’s expression a moment longer. It would likely have been even longer, but Gordon suddenly frowned.

And grabbed at his pants. “What the hell?”

Both Scott and Virgil stared as Gordon started dancing around the pool deck tearing at his clothes. His squawk turned into a giggle as he squirmed. “Omigod, stop!” The giggle became a laugh and Scott found himself holding back from joining in. Beside him Virgil snorted before running in to help their struggling little brother.

He needn’t have bothered. Gordon gave out an exaggerated laugh before throwing himself in the pool.

The sudden silence was almost shocking.

“Gordon!” Virgil stood on the side of the pool staring down at his brother under the water. Two strides and Scott was beside him as Gordon resurfaced, hair in his face, gasping and shirtless.

“Oh my god, that was hilarious!” He coughed out another laugh and threw his shirt onto the deck. “I want to know how you did that.” Gordon grinned up at them.

“We didn’t do it.” Virgil’s voice was sharp.

“Wha-? You’re kidding?” 

Scott shook his head as Gordon levered himself out of the pool.

“Then who? And how?” The swimmer shook the water out of his hair and coated his brothers in the process. At Virgil’s snarl, Gordon’s grin was unrepentant. 

Well, when he looked at it that way, there were only two possible choices and this was not a Brains concept in the slightest.

It was Gordon who said it first. “Alan? Where are you? That was so cool! You gotta show me how you did it!”

Scott didn’t expect an answer. He expected to have to hunt his little brother down like he had Gordon, oh, so many times. So, he was surprised when Alan slunk out of the kitchen with some kind of remote in his hands.

“Alan?” Virgil’s voice spoke of the shock Scott was attempting to process in his head. Alan was a good student. Precocious and bright, but far from the prankster his brother was.

Gordon bounced over to his little brother. “That was so cool! How did you do it?”

“Nanobots.”

“Nanobots.” The word fell from Virgil’s mouth. “You used medical technology for a prank?” 

Scott reached out and grabbed Virgil’s arm again. “Alan, explain yourself.”

The boy’s shoulders dropped. “Failed experiment for school.”

Scott blinked. “What?” None of this was making sense.

And suddenly he was shot with a pair of anguished eyes. “I only wanted to make you laugh!”

Scott stared.

The bicep under his hand wilted.

“Allie?” Gordon’s voice was curious, but soft.

Those blue eyes shifted to the fish. “They don’t smile anymore, much less laugh. So, I thought a little medical intervention might help.” And those hurting eyes flickered to Virgil.

The sound that issued from the engineer was heartbreaking.

While Scott’s brain was uncharacteristically caught in freefall, Gordon presented a parachute. “You made ticklebots?!” His amber eyes were wide with amazement.

As always, Gordon’s joy was infectious and Alan relaxed just a little, a small smile curving his lips. “Yeah, kinda.”

Gordon bounded over and grabbed his brother in a massive hug. “I am so proud!”

Scott let go of Virgil and took several of the steps between himself and his little eleven-year-old brother.

Gordon continued to gush, asking a range of technical questions with such enthusiasm that the small corner of Scott’s mind that was still functioning alerted him that this could be a bad thing for his future sanity.

But right now, he was fixated by those blue eyes, so reflective of his own that were staring up at him.

“Alan?”

Gordon stopped his babbling, but took up a defensive position beside his little brother. Something inside Scott bent and broke just a little.

But his focus was on Alan.

Those blue eyes looked down, breaking contact. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you laugh.”

“So, you tried to tickle us?”

Defiance shot those eyes back up. “Well, I wasn’t going to drug you, was I? Nothing else was working! You and Virgil are just so sad and busy and John is never here anymore and…and…no one laughs anymore!” A frown. Those eyes flickered past Scott and crumpled. “And you’re crying again.”

Scott turned and found Virgil struggling with his emotions, a tear running down his face. Aw, shit.

Alan turned away and took a retreating step, but a blur of red flannel and the youngest was swept up in desperate hug. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

A muffled “’s’not your fault.” But Alan was clinging to his brother like a life raft.

Scott blinked several times. The thought that his genius little brother had to resort to technology out of desperation to see a smile hurt somewhere deep down where he had buried his own tears.

An amber gaze saved him from drowning. Gordon stood on the other side of Virgil and Alan, his shoulders straightening. “So, Allie, can I borrow your bots?”

With that single sentence, the moment snapped with a chorused “No!” from the both eldest. Virgil tumbled backwards in his haste to stand up.

Gordon feigned innocence. “Why not? I have my own experiment to perform. You know, for mental health reasons.”

“No, Gordon.” Scott’s tone was full commander, but the fish just grinned up at him. Hell, he was caught wondering if Gordon would ever obey him.

“Gordon.” Virgil’s voice had that deep grumble of warning.

The fish shrugged and relented. “Eh, your loss. It was going to be brilliant.”

“Sure.” Scott’s tone dripped sarcasm.

“But!” Gordon grinned. “Allie wins the trophy for the concept and invention!” He wrapped an arm around his little brother’s shoulders. “I am so proud.”

Alan smiled up at the fish with appreciation.

Scott held out his hand and those shoulders dropped, the smile disappearing.

“Alan.”

More the reluctant and pouting tween he was, his little brother handed over the remote. Scott glanced at it before handing it off immediately to Virgil. The engineer would be able to make more sense of it than he ever would.

Scott held out an arm and blue eyes stared up at him for just a split second before dashing into the hug the eldest was desperate to give him. Both arms wrapped around Alan and he buried his face in blond hair. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

“’S not your fault.”

“Doesn’t matter. I will try to do better.”

“’S not your fault.”

A glance in Virgil’s direction only to find the big man fighting back tears again. Even Gordon’s expression was a little broken…until he realised Scott was looking at him, then the goofiest of grins split his face and he crossed his eyes.

The laugh that fell from Scott’s lips was almost strangled by a sob.

The devilry that suddenly appeared on that face overrode every other thought with mild fear.

Gordon didn’t disappoint. Sliding up behind a teary Virgil, he darted in and tickled their bear of a brother.

Virgil squawked and wriggle danced out of reach.

Scott couldn’t help it. 

He laughed again.

“C’mere, Virgie, I wanna ticklebot you!” Gordon exaggerated tickling fingers at his brother before jumping into what became a hilarious chase around the pool.

Scott couldn’t help but grin even more.

Alan outright laughed.

And something lifted just a little from Scott’s chest.

“Thank you, Allie.”

Surprised blue shot up at him.

“You’re right. We need to laugh more.”

Virgil ended up in the pool.

Gordon jumped in after him.

And Scott hugged his littlest brother so much closer.

-o-o-o-

The afternoon relaxed into together time. Phones rang but were ignored. John was dragged down from orbit. The barbecue was lugged out, food found and cooked for dinner and a comfortable feeling that had been absent since their father had been lost, found its way onto the Island.

Gordon cherished it.

Virgil continued to be a touch emotional during the entire time, grabbing random brothers and attempting to smother them with his arms. Scott was quieter, but even Gordon noticed he was far from Alan at any point that entire afternoon and evening. John was quietly puzzled about the whole thing until he suddenly grabbed at his shirt and jumped and jiggled about.

“Oh, so that’s how it works.” Virgil was staring down at the remote control in his hand, poking at it.

John let out a squawk and fell onto the couch writhing.

His shirt was thrown off moments later.

“Hey, Alan, how do you turn them off?”

Therein followed some discussion on Alan and Virgil’s part, followed by Scott and his two cents when he felt it appropriate.

John started yelling at them after a very short period of time, still writhing on the sofa.

Gordon thought it was absolutely hilarious and had trouble keeping his feet while laughing.

All in all, it was a fantastic afternoon and evening.

Scott fell asleep on the couch with his arm wrapped around a snoozing Alan five minutes into the movie Gordon had chosen. Virgil lasted another five minutes before caving into a faceplant on one of the cushions. His snores made it difficult to hear the movie, but the remaining three brothers cared not a whit. By the time John joined them in the land of the exhausted, the movie was little more than soundscape.

But Gordon wouldn’t have it any other way.

This was something that they had been missing for so long. Gordon sat there fake watching the movie and honestly holding back a few tears at the thought. Alan was right. They needed more laughter. His big brothers, John included, were shouldering so much now their father was no longer with them, and yes, his thoughts stumbled on that acknowledgement. God, he missed his dad. But they all had to do their part.

If there was something Gordon wanted to do, it was bring back the laughter. If it took itching powder and dye, if it took silly hats and fake tattoos, if it took everything he had, he would see his brothers happy.

They all had to do their part.

And he would make this his.

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
